Hayes, Bellevue Gryffindor
by isathiel
Summary: Sometimes, you can't let others make up your mind for you. Sometimes, you need to make your own mistakes… A Snape/OC fanfic.
1. prologue

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Hayes, Bellevue. Gryffindor.

Sometimes, you can't let others make up your mind for you… 

Sometimes, you need to make your own mistakes…

A Snape/OC fanfic.

Disclaimer: Excepting Bellevue Hayes (so far) everything else belongs to JK Rowling

~ Prologue ~

Slowly but surely, he had started to notice her. In every Potions class, she would sit there silently, carefully working on her Potion. Her book was open next to her, but she would barely cast a glance at it. 

Perhaps it was this that made him leave the safety of his desk. For other reasons, at least. After all, he had seen plenty of potions that were blue when they were meant to be black, or bubbling when they were meant to be still. 

Just the other night, he had begun to wonder if making a mistake was in her nature. 

He knew that the Draught of Living Death was not an easy potion to make. In fact, judging by the complaints put forth by the rest of the class the following day, so did they.

For him, however, it fell under one of those reasons. A test, if you will. 

He watched her flick through the pages of her Potions book. Whether it was fervently, or earnestly, he couldn't decide.

However, she worked with the same measured pace she did in all his classes. But, she appeared to be the only one. He crossed the room straight to her, wanting to commend her on her work.

He glimpsed into her cauldron, well aware that she was watching him do this. He looked up at her. Far from looking caught out, she looked at him with an expression of shyness. Apologetic, even. But she didn't have the scared look so many others did.

He was intrigued, to say the least. And lost for words. Except for the ones that asked her to stay behind after class. As he turned away, he saw her nod. He looked over the rest of the potions. Or imitations of potions.

With a wave of his wand, words appeared on the board behind him. He doubted homework would help this sorry lot, but what kind of a Professor would he be if he did not give them any?

The class filed out hastily, books thrown carelessly in bags, and ingredients left behind. Also left behind was her. It was most likely in the flurry of students leaving, but she had packed away all her belongings, and carefully at that.

She was looking in his direction, but at the same time she was not. 

He crossed the dungeon to where she sat, then reached for a chair and sat in front of her. 

Then he felt it what it was like to have her look at him. She shifted slightly, then smiled.

Before he got too lost in those eyes, he averted his gaze. Perhaps down-wards wasn't the best, but he thought upwards would be a tad odd. Then, equally as quickly, he changed his mind. He was going to give her a mere warning, but that would mean letting her go… free, he supposed.

And he couldn't have that. Abruptly he stood up. She looked up at him, slightly confused. Perhaps even anticipating. He strode away, standing behind his desk. She also stood, and placed her bag upon her shoulder, then neared the door.

Before she disappeared from his view, however, she turned to face him. He thought for a moment she was going to ask why he had kept her behind for no apparent reason. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised. He heard her honeyed tones wish him a good evening.

Then, before he could formulate any kind of reply, she had gone. Free.


	2. one

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Hayes, Bellevue. Gryffindor.

Sometimes, you can't let others make up your mind for you… 

Sometimes, you need to make your own mistakes…

A Snape/OC fanfic.

Disclaimer: Excepting Bellevue Hayes (so far) everything else belongs to JK Rowling

A/N: Thanks to McNa and Bai for the kind reviews, and to Tiny for beta-reading… I'm glad you're liking this story so far; I just hope future chapters don't disappoint *smiles*

~ One ~

The Gryffindor common room slowly emptied as students started to make their way up to the dormitories. Like her, they probably thought that after a certain time of night, it just seemed wrong to do homework. Not to mention the words of her Potions book were starting to blur before her eyes.

The crackling of the fire pierced her subconscious, drawing her attention. However, there was something else competing for her attention. It had crossed her mind briefly earlier on, but she hadn't wanted to think about it then.

Not that she really wanted to think about it now. The look on Snape's face had been priceless when he had looked into her cauldron. She'd never got the hang of Potions, but the manner in which she worked had never belied the fact.

Then he had asked her to stay behind. She had waited patiently for her punishment, not daring to look at him squarely in the eye. When he had sat directly in front of her, she had felt slightly unnerved, but to look any way but straight would have been rude.

She need not have worried, for he did not stay there for long. When she had next looked at him, he was back behind his desk. His vantage point, she supposed. It was then that she had thought maybe Snape was something like her. 

If indeed he was like any one normal, she thought, then he deserved a "good night" at the very least. Not wanting to break the silence too much she spoke quietly, and then without knowing if he had heard her or not, had left the dungeon.

Letting some of her thoughts leave the back of her mind, she descended to the seventh-years dormitory. Excepting the moon, there was barely any light in the room. There were times when darkness was to be appreciated. However, as she silently cursed to herself when her knee came into contact with the edge of her bed, now was not one of those times.

She listened intently, but no one seemed to have woken up. She undid the buttons on her school shirt slowly, almost seductively, some would say. It was not intended to be, and she did not realise. She paused briefly at the window, but then hastened to get into bed. 

Snape. With a slight scoff, she realised that she may as well allow her thoughts a name. It wasn't as if she could pretend that someone else was featuring in her thoughts. Just like she couldn't pretend that she wasn't curious.

Intricate. The word reverberated through her mind.

Now that she had no longer confined those thoughts to the back of her mind, they had overthrown any kind of conclusion she might have started to make.

Like some students wished they could make Potions that had gone wrong disappear, she wished that the same could be done for her thoughts. They were wrong also. 

She closed her eyes, but it was of no use. Her thoughts formed pictures that spoke more then a thousand words.

Like so many things do, the sleep that found her that night came at a price. 


	3. two

It was nothing new to him, being awake in the early hours of the morning.

There were those that tried to go to sleep in order to forget what they were thinking about, but he had very soon found that sometimes, you had to yield to what you wanted to avoid.

However, something that was new to him was the nature of his thoughts. He wondered at what point he had dared to allow the thought to play with his subconscious, having the effect of an incorrect ingredient added to a Potion.

The unexpected effect. The fact that he was even allowing these thoughts to continue was unexpected in itself. Then again, when the unexpected happened, it wasn't something that could be dismissed.

He knew her shy goodbye would remain with him.

That was the problem with the unexpected. Because it had never happened before, it meant that you had to think about why it happened. What had led to it. What _could _happen.

Like something bad, perhaps the unexpected also came in threes.

He sincerely hoped not. The unexpected wasn't something that he was keen on. Or that he wanted to happen. And to himself, least of all.

How he hated it when things contradicted.

On one hand, he believed that the unfamiliar was best left alone. He had seen so many come to grief while facing the unknown, that he had no desire to stray into uncharted territory.

Another part of him argued, however, that something was only unfamiliar until you had experienced it. Then it became part of what you knew. It was this that was playing with his mind.

Years of Occlumency had taught him to hide his thoughts from others. While it was a difficult thing to master, even more difficult would be hiding from your own thoughts. It would be near impossible.

Suddenly, he stood up. He knew that there was something about this particular unfamiliar that he was intrigued by.

He crossed the room and out into the dim hallway, deciding to act upon the only _reasonable_ idea that was in his head. He supposed that if he was to stay awake all night with his thoughts, then it would be better spent while he was doing something useful.

In his patrol of the school hallways however, he found himself avoiding the place where he knew she would be. Previously, he'd avoided the Gryffindor common room because it _was _the Gryffindor common room.

As he walked along, his sharp hearing picked up a sound coming from around the corner. Quietly, stealthily, he turned the corner, ready to surprise some unsuspecting student, to torture them. Perhaps it would end his torture.

He rounded the corner, and froze.

Student, yes. Unsuspecting, no. In fact, if anyone was surprised, it was him. By _her. _He had no words for her. His plan of attack had all but vanished.

She looked up at him. Her face was apologetic, but it held no fear. She was not afraid of the fact that she had been caught out of bed after hours. And by _Snape. _It didn't seem to bother her.

She started walking towards him. She moved slowly, almost apprehensively, until she was a couple of feet away.

He leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes. He didn't have to see her to know that she had moved closer still.

His hand twitched, but he forced it to remain by his side.

He tried to imagine what expression her face would hold, but couldn't. She had always behaved so differently to what he'd expected, that he couldn't be sure.

When she moved closer still, he just had to open his eyes. There was a shy smile on her face, almost questioning.

She didn't need to speak for him to know that their thoughts were very similar. She only had to stand there, and look at him.

He almost couldn't bear it. Her gaze burned into him, unleashing something he had never felt before.


End file.
